


Greedy For Needing You

by ShugarMan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Real World, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 19:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7280800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShugarMan/pseuds/ShugarMan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone says that war does shit to your mind, but no one really gets it. They've got to go see the war for themselves, and when they come back, battered and broken, no one believes them when they say, "War does shit to your mind."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greedy For Needing You

Everyone tells you that war does shit to your mind, irreparable shit. But no one really gets it; they can't take anything a batty old man says at face value. They've got to go see the war for themselves, and when they come back, battered and broken, no one believes them when they say, "War'll mess up your mind kid." because now _they_ are the batty old men, and no one takes what they say at face value.

It only took six gruelling months on the frontline for the war to break Sergeant Barnes, but to him it may as well have been eighty years for all it fucked him over. He came home not knowing what home was, or even who he was. So he decides, _I am The Soldier_ , and carries on surviving as such. He rents a shoddy apartment downtown and spends his days on edge. Pulling knives out of his boot and off of his thigh to defend himself against sudden noises and flickering shadows.

By the two-month mark he's progressed to buying fruit from street market vendors. Their faces are kind and their voices are slow. The Soldier doesn't trust them. The Soldier trusts no one.

He's got a routine now; every morning he is torn from sleep by a nightmare he can't shake. He goes for a run when the sky is still dark and by the time he gets back all he can do is fall into bed. When he wakes again he eats a bland breakfast of toast before he goes off to find a quiet corner in the gym, where he can spend hours on end beating the shit out of a bag of sand uninterrupted. He doesn't eat lunch. He has toast again for dinner, _always toast_ , and if he's feeling up to it, maybe a plum for dessert. He'll flit around while the night grows heavier, sweeping the apartment for unwelcome intruders. Then he goes to sleep in the early hours of the morning, when the running of his mind is slow enough to let him rest. The routine is habit, unchanging.

Until a man grabs his right shoulder in a firm grip when he's out on a too-early morning run. The Soldier reacts swiftly, getting the guy in a headlock before dropping him to the ground. The Soldiers kneeling over the man, a serrated knife held against his neck, when the man says, "Bucky?" and The Soldiers mind balks.

The words are hard to pull from the back of his throat, months of only grunts and gestures leaving his voice rough and unused. "Who the hell is Bucky?" he says, but The Soldier already knows. A forgotten memory hits him like a train,

_The Soldier, sitting alone on a rooftop with a sniper rifle set up ready beside him. A solid mantra runs from his lips in a fervent rush, "Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, 107th. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, 107th." In his hands is a torn and faded photo, obviously well loved. The creases make it difficult to see the details but the subject is clear. A man, with broad shoulders and blonde hair, with his arm slung over The Soldiers shoulder. They're both smiling._

The Soldier comes back to himself with a jolt and looks down at the man, knife still held tight in his fist. He either hasn't noticed the gleaming metal, or trusts The Soldier enough not to care, which doesn’t make sense. _But it does_. The fabric of a faded cadet shirt is stretched tight over his broad shoulders and his blonde hair is sweaty from his early morning run. _I know him_ , The Soldier thinks, but his mouth says, "Who are you?"

The Soldier goes home with the man, _"Steve," he says, blush high on his cheeks, "sometimes you call me Stevie."_ but it's not all sunshine and rainbows from then on. The Soldier's still broken, and it takes months of therapy to even think of himself as Bucky Barnes, but Steve never wavers. He gives the soldier food when all he can say is "I don't know you." even though he does. He lets The Soldier sleep in his bed, even when his sleep is 85% nightmares. Steve stays while The Soldier screams himself hoarse. And all the while this man, this brave, strong man is crying too and saying, "I need you to stay with me Buck, it's alright. You're here now, it's okay."

 _I need you,_ Steve says, and The Soldier believes him.

A year later, when his last nightmare wakes him in a cold sweat, Steve is still there. James Buchanan Barnes says, "I need you." Steve holds him tight and says, "I know."

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if I missed any errors, comments are super welcome, probably need it for my first fic.


End file.
